


Philosophy in a Tea Cup

by equivalent_exchange



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Rain, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23873326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equivalent_exchange/pseuds/equivalent_exchange
Summary: Cara likes to stand alone in the rain.The Mandalorian never looks too long - at the clouds and sky as they weep and weep, yes - but not at her. It always seems too personal, too intimate to watch.He doesn’t understand why.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune, Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 98





	Philosophy in a Tea Cup

**Author's Note:**

> An idea that just wouldn't leave me alone, and then it took over my life for 3 days while I was supposed to be doing schoolwork.
> 
> Typical.
> 
> Fic title taken from the soundtrack to the anime Trigun. Listen to it [here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ntL9HjgOHjY)
> 
> One-shot, like a real one this time. 😂

Cara likes to stand alone in the rain.

Din first notices the phenomenon during their weeks on Sorgan.

On more than one occasion he’d catch her standing perfectly still, face to the sky and eyes closed, taking solace in the millions of droplets bathing her in a rainfall.

The Mandalorian never looks too long - at the clouds and sky as they weep and weep, yes - but not at her. It always seems too personal, too intimate to watch.

He doesn’t understand why.

Din never questions her when she eventually returns to the barn, soaked to the bone and hair dripping rivulets.

He doesn’t ask and she doesn’t tell.

\----

One day, after a particularly brutal spar, they’re both sitting on the grass trying to catch their breaths as the gray clouds in the sky encroach on their little slice of sanctuary.

Cara looks up beyond the trees and asks, “When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin? Have you ever?”

He’s taken aback by the strange question, his brow furrowing beneath the helmet, watching her intently.

It takes him a moment to formulate a reply.

“I can’t remember, perhaps when I was a child, before I swore the Creed,” he says quietly.

She nods, just a slight movement of her head, her eyes still trained to the sky.

Din can’t seem to look away.

The Mandalorian can feel the change in the air, the slight change in pressure and wind speed as the storm approaches. In the back of his mind he knows they should probably head back to the village, back to the safety of their shared barn.

Instead he finally gives into the curiosity, he asks, “Why do you do it? Stand in the rain?”

Her mouth curls upwards in a grin, almost serene, and she turns to him with a dimple in each cheek and a sparkle of pride in her eyes.

“Why? I guess the simple answer is that it reminds me that _I’m alive_.”

\----

Din can feel it in his bones, the green trees and murky ponds of Sorgan have been a surprising sanctuary for him and the Child, but he knows his time here is nearing an end.

He just doesn’t know if he’ll be alone in the cockpit when the ship leaves the atmosphere.

It’s becoming more difficult to find reasons to leave, there are people he’s grown fond of, and the feeling is unsettling. With the life he leads, attachments can be dangerous things, for both him and the others.

Someone once told him he didn’t have to feel guilty for caring, that there could more to his life than a solitary existence flying through space. He just needs to allow himself to have it.

Maybe one day he’ll believe it.

\----

The sun rose hours ago, but the fields and ponds are nearly empty.

He stands on the edge of the porch to the barn, watching as the villagers rush to take shelter from the heavy downpour, but not her.

She stands in the rainfall, shoulders relaxed and head pointing to the heavens. Slowly, she turns, meeting his gaze through the forming mist. His breath is caught in his throat, it’s as if he’s looking at someone new, or maybe he’s just finally seeing who she really is.

Cara walks to him, stops just out of reach of the roof. They stare at each other, waiting to see who will make the first move.

She gently grabs his hand and pulls it into the rain. Finger by finger she removes his glove, slowly inching the fabric from his skin, revealing the lightly tan colored flesh. Din’s hand quivers the moment the droplets touch his flesh.

A knot forms in his stomach when she lightly traces a single line on his palm. The feeling of someone else’s skin, _hers_ , sends shivers down his spine, and sudden he’s acutely aware of _her_.

Cara gently reminds him of her words from what seems like so long ago, “It reminds me that I’m alive, that I can still feel. That it’s ok to have something good and happy.”

Din looks to his palm, glistening in the rain as the water hits his skin and runs between his stretched fingers, down his wrist and drips to the ground.

He’s silent as he watches Cara remove her own glove, and the Mandalorian is aware that she now holds both of them in her hand, one of his and one of hers.

Carefully, she brings her bare hand to his, her wet palm touching the back of his hand, sending an electric shock through them. Pressing her fingers together, she cups his hand, silently asking him to do the same.

Din molds to her perfectly, his fingers curled together, and palm curved.

They watch as the rainwater gathers in his palm, creating a small pool that catches the tiny rays of sunlight beginning to peek through the dark clouds.

When the water begins to overflow and spill, he hopes the feeling of Cara’s tightening grip wasn’t his imagination.

On the porch, sitting on a small wooden box, the steam of her tea cup rises and mingles with the cool air of the rain.

\----

It’s been weeks now since he left her and the lush green planet behind.

He and the Child continue wandering the Outer Rim, hoping to find another sanctuary, but he knows those are few and far between.

Here in the silence of space, aboard his ship, their home, he feels most at ease.

This place will never change, but he does, slowly, but surely, whether he likes it or not.

At first it was with an asset turned son, and now, someone he wants to hold close to his heart, but doesn’t know how.

On the floor, he plays with the green baby, entertaining him as best he can with what little knick knacks he was able to scrounge up from around the Razor Crest. When Din hands him the stuffed blue frog, a gift from the villagers, long green ears droop sadly.

He misses his friends.

Din shares the sentiment.

After putting the little one to bed, Din stands under the spray of the shower, fingers curled as water pools and overflows in the palm of his hand.

It doesn’t feel the same.

\----

They’re walking up the ramp to the Razor Crest when the first drops begin to fall.

Cara turns to the darkening sky and takes one last look back to the trees and little town she’s called home for months now. She knows she’s not coming back, at least not anytime soon. It’s been a good ride, but now something else calls to her, _someone_.

She was reluctant to join him at first, this wasn’t her fight, but he trusted her enough to ask, and that meant something.

Din calls out, “Cara?”

Turning to the voice, she finds him standing at the top of the ramp, his cloak flowing softly in the wind behind him. Even though she can’t see his face, his concern is evident in his voice.

Taking one more glance above, she faces him fully, flashing him her classic smirk.

“Let’s go kill some Imps.”

\----

Cara sits on the small balcony of her apartment, leaning back in her chair and feet resting comfortably on the railing.

The stars aren’t very visible in the skies of Nevarro. Every night she looks up to the handful of dim twinkling lights, breathes in the dry air and wonders if he thinks about her too, wherever he and the kid are.

Hopefully somewhere alive and safe.

When she announced she was staying after the incident with Moff Gideon, she was surprised to hear the disappointment in his voice. But she knew she couldn’t go with him, with _them_ , no matter how much Din wanted her too. The anger and vengeance roaring in her heart were too strong to ignore.

The Empire wants to kill some of the few people in the galaxy she cares about, and if she could slow them down, give Din and his cute green baby a better fighting chance, then she would.

Once upon a time, she wasn’t there to help the ones she loved keep safe from the Empire. Those people are gone now, and all she has left of them are memories.

She doesn’t want Din and the kid to be just memories.

Cara gently swirls the steaming liquid in her cup before taking a tentative sip.

Right now, she really misses the rain.

\----

Din can hardly breathe, the air on Dxun is thick and heavy and humid. The warm rains only giving him a slight reprieve, cooling his overheated body as his clothes stick uncomfortably to his sweat soaked skin. He’s glad he left the boy on the ship; he wasn’t expecting to find so many bounty hunters hiding out on this forsaken moon.

The blaster bolt he took to his thigh throbs painfully, the flesh pulling and bleeding around the edges as he runs, but he doesn’t have time to treat his wound. They’re not too far behind him, but at least the rain covers his tracks, just slightly.

He’s nearing the edge of the tree line, the view of the ship becoming clearer with each step as he moves from tree to tree.

A shot sounds from somewhere on his right. Drawing his blaster, Din picks up his pace. As soon as he emerges from the trees, he’s tackled to the ground and barely has enough time to deflect the vibroblade from slicing his throat. His opponent is strong, the Mandalorian’s arms shake as he tries to fend off the hunter on top of him and grab the blaster just out of reach.

Suddenly the pressure on his chest vanishes as a blur of black and green flash across his eyes.

Grabbing his blaster, he’s on his feet and spins around to face this newcomer as his assailant cries in agony from the blade jammed in its neck.

Cara stands and makes her way back towards him.

Eyeing the blaster in his hand, with her dimpled smirk, she asks, “You wanna fight me again, Mando? We both know how well that turned out for you last time. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

Slowly holstering his firearm, he takes in her appearance.

Cara’s chest is heaving from the fight, armor a bit more scarred and scorched than he remembered, her onyx colored hair plastered to her face, from sweat or the rain he doesn’t know, and there’s a streak of blue blood on her cheek from where she wiped her face with her dirty glove.

She’s never looked so beautiful.

Din’s dumbfounded at her sudden crash back into his life.

“You’re here,” he says lamely.

Her laughter is music to his ears, the sound louder and fuller than the rain pelting the trees and ground all around them.

“Yeah, I am. You know, you were pretty easy to find. You should probably work on that.”

He hopes she knows he’s smiling beneath his helmet.

\----

It’s early morning, a little family follows a small stream to a nearby village to shop for supplies when they decide to take a small break. The plentiful leaves and blades of grass peppering their path are damp, tiny beads of moisture hanging by a thread from the morning’s dew.

Din retrieves his son from the carrier and carefully sets him on the ground, letting the young one stretch his legs and explore the woodland area. The boy’s been eyeing the different creatures grazing along their path ever since they left the ship, and the armor-clad man knows that if he doesn’t let the baby down, he’ll just disappear on his own sooner or later.

Lifting his head, Din can see that it’s raining, a light drizzle that coats the vegetation in a layer of droplets that reflect the sunlight beautifully, illuminating their surroundings in gorgeous hues of delicate yellows and greens and blues.

Cara comes to stand beside him as they watch their mischievous green son prey on any of the small chittering bugs and croaking frogs he thinks he can get his claws on.

The baby discovers a small puddle at the base of a tree trunk, the dark silhouettes swimming frantically as soon as the infant toddles his way over and unceremoniously plops down onto the soft mossy dirt. Instead of reaching for the fish, he tilts his head in curiosity, content to observe the scene before him. The Child’s face stretches into a smile when he sees his parents sitting close by, his mother wearing a grin matching his own and his father giving him a small nod when his eyes meet the visor.

Din carefully takes Cara’s hand, pulling her glove off finger by finger, like she did for him once before.

The Mandalorian removes both of his and cradles her bare hand in one of his own. With his other, he traces the lines of her palm, all the creases and ridges and tiny scars, his touch just a whisper on her skin.

He’s still holding her hand when her eyes meet his, always hidden beneath the silver helmet, but she knows the soft curves of his lips are smiling back at her, grateful for this life they share.

\----

Cara slowly climbs the incline back to the cliff where she hopes Din and the kid are safely waiting for her aboard the ship. The rain is making her trek difficult, the loose dirt and water mixing beneath her boots, causing her to slip more times than she can count. Her knees and hands are covered in thick mud from when she nearly fainted and caught herself.

The pain in her side from the deep bleeding jagged cut and what she suspects are a few broken ribs aren’t making things easier, not by a long shot.

She doesn’t know how long it takes her to reach the top of the cliff, the rain coming down harder the higher she climbs, but when she does, she can see the smoke and fire and ruin she left behind in that poor unsuspecting town down below. Collapsing to her knees in exhaustion and grief, she surveys the damage - buildings reduced to nothing but rubble, homes burning, and bodies littering the ground.

Somewhere down there are the two kids she tried to save from the stormtroppers. She wasn’t fast enough to pull them behind her cover; their dying cries are still echoing loudly in her ears.

Cara isn’t aware of Din running from the ship until he crashes to the ground beside her. He tries to help her to her feet, but she’s frozen, the weight of what’s happened pinning the shock trooper to her knees.

He can see the destruction reflecting in her eyes, the innocent lives lost because the Empire was hunting _them_.

They were separated somewhere in the commotion and luckily, he and their son were able to make it back to the ship quickly, but Din knows Cara would have stopped to help anyone she could. By the way her lip trembles and breath hitches, he knows she failed in that respect.

“Cara. Cara!” He tries to get her attention, but to no avail.

Din kneels in front of her now, blocking her view of the ruined town, her eyes are glazed over and he’s worried she’s going into shock. The wound on her side is deep, blood running down and soaking her shirt in thick rivulets, mixing with the heavy rain dousing them both.

He understands what thoughts must be going through her mind, but they weren’t safe here.

Without thinking, Din hastily removes his helmet, setting the metal on the ground between them and carefully taking Cara’s face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes.

His voice is gentle but strong, he knows he needs to be strong right now, for her.

“Cara, please. We need to leave. You’re injured and we aren’t safe here,” he says.

He can see the realization in her eyes, this wasn’t how he wanted her to see his face for the first time, but he can’t find it in himself to regret this.

Din’s gloved hands brush the wet hair from her face, then return to her cheeks, his thumbs wiping the stream of tears.

She lets out a strangled choke, and his heart shatters, “Din – “

Touching his forehead to hers, Cara shuts her eyes, but it doesn’t stop the small hiccups that signal she’s holding back her sobs.

“I know, Cara. I know. I’m so sorry…”

Gingerly, he replaces his helmet and brings the woman to her feet.

Din drapes his thick warm cloak over her head to protect her from the rain as he wraps his arms around her, holding her close, flush against his cold armor and soaking clothes as she shivers against him. Step by step, they make their way through the mud and up the ramp. Nearing the top, Cara falters, her knees nearly giving out from under her, and Din grits his teeth to keep his own tears at bay.

It’s a terrible day for rain.

\----

Another job that should’ve been easy credits but takes a bad turn, leaving them weary and drained.

Hostage situations are never easy.

Thankfully everyone made it out alive, but it always brings out the deepest, most scarred memories out of her, and right now Din can see the toll it’s taking.

Cara strips off her armor, tossing it to the corner in a haphazard pile of their rented room and strips down to her underwear and sleeveless sleeping shirt. She quietly pads into the adjoined room to check on their boy while Din removes his beskar outer shell and clothes.

She returns to their room and is welcomed with dimmed lights, a glass of whiskey, and the man who holds her heart seated on the balcony waiting for her. Taking her seat next to him, she breathes in the cool air, the rain stopped some time ago, but the moisture lingers, an old friend greeting her after a tiring day.

They sit in comfortable silence. Cara taking small sips of her drink as Din looks out, the lights and fog bathing the city in a soft yellow aura.

After a while, she sets down her glass, mostly empty, and Din turns to her, he can feel her thinking.

Cara licks her lips, the taste of the whiskey soaked into the plump flesh, and her brow furrows.

She lets out a rueful laugh, her shoulders quaking slightly, “I don’t even know where to start,” she says.

He reaches for her hand sitting in her lap and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Anywhere you want. I – just talk to me, Cara,” he whispers.

She brings their intertwined hands to her lips, and gives his a kiss.

_I love you, thank you._

Facing the city, she swallows the lump in her throat and begins.

“I died, once. Did I ever tell you that? On one of my last missions as a dropper, we were tasked with pushing Imperial remnants from a small town on one of the Mid Rim planets. Quickly and quietly, so that the New Republic could move in and claim ‘neutral’ territory. We dropped in the middle of the night, my team and I, we had the intel of an underground base, and we hit them hard. But as soon as they came above ground, they scattered and started taking hostages, breaking into homes and dragging families out, blasters to their heads - men, women, children, they didn’t care.

It turned into an all-out firefight after that. The screams and cries were just as loud as the blasters. Bodies were dropping fast, mostly the innocents caught in the crossfire. Eventually we were able to get upper hand, but just barely.

There was a group of three stormtroopers that dragged some teenagers into an alleyway, and I followed. My team was still busy on the main street, so I was on my own. Turns out the Imps were trafficking kids and they were collecting for their next shipment. I had managed to take out one of them, but the other two quickly backed me into a corner. I could’ve taken them out easy, but I didn’t want to hurt those kids. I’ve killed a lot of people, but I could never forgive myself if – “

Cara shakes her head to dispel some of the tears before they can form, and Din gives her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“I somehow managed to kill another Imp and was able to get those kids behind me, give them some cover. Next thing I know, that last Imp was charging one of them, and I just reacted. Jumped in front of her and took a vibroblade to the gut. I managed to knock him back, but then he blasted me twice, one in the collarbone, shattering my armor and another that grazed my neck.”

She pauses, with her free hand she reaches to touch the thick jagged scars. Din’s eyes follow her movements, he knows those scars well, has run his hands and mouth over them more times than he can count. He pictures her in the dirt, dying and confused and alone.

The thought makes him nauseous.

“After that things got hazy. I could tell I was bleeding out, but I didn’t have any medpacs. I was dying and I couldn’t stop thinking ‘Is this it? Was this all my life was for, to die in a dirty alley, killed by some damned Imp?’ The last thing I remember was how everything felt so numb, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t feel anything, just how dark that sky looked that night.

I woke up a week later in the town’s run-down med clinic. Apparently, those kids I saved, they ended up saving me, too. They dragged me to the clinic and the docs worked on me for hours. At some point on the operating table, my heart stopped, lost too much blood. That vibroblade nicked one of my organs and it was worse than they first thought. They managed to get my heart pumping again, somehow.

When I came to, the first thing I heard was the sound of the rain against the window, not the half dozen machines I was hooked up to, but of the rain coming down. It rained the whole time I was recovering, lying in that bed, I stared out that window every damn day. And when I finally got out, I felt the water on my skin, felt the chill and goosebumps, and I knew I was alive. That somehow I was alive when I shouldn’t be.”

Cara turns to her companion, and she sees that he’s removed his helmet and is looking at her with so much raw emotion etched into his face that it leaves her breathless.

He stands from his chair and kneels before her, taking her hands in his and placing them on his cheeks, his larger hands covering her own. Cara tenderly wipes the tears streaming down his face, caressing him.

Din’s voice is raw and hoarse and so full of love that she can feel her own overwhelming emotions swirling inside her too.

“Carasynthia Dune, no one in this whole galaxy is happier that you’re alive, right here and now, than me.”

\----

Din wakes to find his son snoring loudly in his ear. Sometime during the night, the little womp rat snuck into their bed and made himself at home nestled between his parents.

The Mandalorian turns to find her side of the bed empty and the sheets cold.

Tucking the boy into the blankets, the man begins his search for his wife. Passing through the kitchen and living room, he notices the front door ajar and a cold wind blowing, his skin erupting in goosebumps.

He walks to the door, bare feet silent on the smooth stone, and discovers Cara curled in her chair on the porch watching the early morning rainfall.

His voice is still laced with sleep as he leans against the doorframe when he greets her, “Hey, you. Couldn’t sleep?”

Turning to her sleepy husband who’s still yawning and rubbing his tired eyes, she replies with a chuckle and shake of her head, “For a bit, I woke up when this started. Seems someone was eager to listen to the rain.”

Din looks to the swell of Cara’s stomach, and nods in understanding.

Not even born yet, and already taking after her mother.

Padding across the porch, he bends down and presses his lips to hers sweetly, a gently massage of lips and tongues.

Breaking their kiss, Din carefully pulls Cara to her feet, and guides her to the edge of the porch.

He stands behind her, the soft and full curves of her changing body pressing intimately to hard panes of his front. Din brings a hand to her stomach and caresses the ever growing swell of their child.

Din’s other hand takes Cara’s, and he holds them out together in the rain. The freezing droplets gather in their palms, slow and steady.

Nestled between their chairs on the porch, a little table holds two mismatched tea cups, the curling steam of the hot liquid dissipating in the cold morning air.

**Author's Note:**

> Tried to get metaphorical and/or philosophical and this is what happens. Did it make sense? I have no idea, you tell me. 😂
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!
> 
> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr](https://flipredmonkey.tumblr.com)


End file.
